#AmericanWriters
76 Exultation is the going Of an inland soul to sea, Past the houses—past the headlands… Into deep Eternity—
349 I had the Glory—that will do— An Honor, Thought can turn her to When lesser Fames invite— With one long “Nay”—
The wind tapped like a tired man, And like a host, ‘Come in,’ I boldly answered; entered then My residence within A rapid, footless guest,
437 Prayer is the little implement Through which Men reach Where Presence—is denied them. They fling their Speech
373 I’m saying every day “If I should be a Queen, tomorrow… I’d do this way— And so I deck, a little,
375 The Angle of a Landscape— That every time I wake— Between my Curtain and the Wall Upon an ample Crack—
878 The Sun is gay or stark According to our Deed. If Merry, He is merrier— If eager for the Dead
247 What would I give to see his face… I’d give—I’d give my life—of cour… But that is not enough! Stop just a minute—let me think!
617 Don’t put up my Thread and Needle… I’ll begin to Sew When the Birds begin to whistle— Better Stitches—so—
343 My Reward for Being, was This. My premium—My Bliss— An Admiralty, less— A Sceptre—penniless—
Safe in their alabaster chambers, Untouched by morning and untouched… Sleep the meek members of the resu… Rafter of satin, and roof of stone… Light laughs the breeze in her cas…
75 She died at play, Gambolled away Her lease of spotted hours, Then sank as gaily as a Turn
965 Denial—is the only fact Perceived by the Denied— Whose Will—a numb significance— The Day the Heaven died—
776 The Color of a Queen, is this— The Color of a Sun At setting—this and Amber— Beryl—and this, at Noon—
37 Before the ice is in the pools— Before the skaters go, Or any check at nightfall Is tarnished by the snow—